Kissed by Fire
by MeliaWu
Summary: "The Children pray to the Old Gods, until one day, the Old Gods send their answer that a child would be born near the place where the last great magic was performed. This child wouldn't be like any other. She would be young, yet possessed an old soul. She would be born amidst the ice, but kissed by fire. And with her, the winged beasts shall rise again to end the Long Night."
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to George R.R. Martin and J.K. Rowling.

A/N: The names of Prince Doran's parents were never mentioned, so I made up her name and make one of the Martells' vassal houses who had connection with the Targaryens as the former house of the Prince Consort. Also, this is Rhaegar/Hermione fic, so if you don't like, don't read. Cheers.

Chapter 1

Sunspear, 262 AC

The storm is raging above the Old Palace, where the Martells live in and ruled. The storm was so bad, it was raining ice the size of an adult's fist. The wind was howling, so different from the usual gentle breeze the residents used to, making it the coldest night ever felt for years to come. The dark sky would be alight once in a while as the lightning bolt strikes the earth with loud rumbling sound. So loud, it sometimes drowned the sound of Princess Arielle shouts as she fight to bring her child into the world. Suddenly, her shout was joined by a loud wailing sound. A cry of a babe. And then it's on, and on and on.

Not long after, the Maester exited the room to greet the expecting father.

"What is it, Maester? Does the Princess and the babe, alright?" The Prince Consort asked anxiously. The Maester smile.

"The babe is a girl, Your Grace, healthy as the flowers blooming in the Water Gardens. Have a pair of great lungs, too, as you can hear. She and the Princess are fine. Come, see for yourself." The Maester said. The Prince Consort smile and excitedly enters the room, leaving his five and ten years old namesake in charge of his youngest two. The Prince Doran, who is a squire to Lord Gargalen at Salt Shore was home for the birth of his newest sibling.

The Prince Consort was greeted by the sight of his wife, still laying on the bed, sweaty and just in her night gown being cleaned by the midwife, holding a babe in a little bundle, still squirming and crying despite his wife's effort to quieten the babe.

"My Princess." He called as he walked closer to his wife's side.

"My Prince, may I present our youngest and second daughter?" She said as she angled her arms so the Prince could see their babe.

The Prince gasped as he takes the first look of his daughter. Unlike his previous children, the babe possessed hair the colour of Dornish Red Wine that reminds him of his late mother who came from Lys instead of black. Like it was 'kissed by fire', something people said every time they talked about his mother fondly. And her skin, while still red from the remnant of blood and afterbirth, also from her incessant crying was fairer than her siblings. He didn't know yet about her eyes, still the blue colour of a newborn, but he was sure it would be the dark, enchanting ones of House Martell or Hazel-bluish ones of the Manwoody, his former house. "She's beautiful, My Princess."

"She really is, My Prince." She said, pleased to have confirmation of her own thought. She herself never thought would be blessed with a child after the birth of her youngest son Oberyn, especially after two cradle death and premature birth of her now oldest daughter Elia.

"What should we named this beauty?" He asked his wife.

"I was thinking of Maya. How does it sound?"

"Princess Maya of Dorne." He recited, smiling. "I like it, My Princess."

It was at the time that the midwife finished cleaning her up. "Maester, please call the children. I'm sure they would love to see their newest sibling."

The Maester bowed. "As you wish, Your Grace." He said before moving to do his task.

Not long after that, their three children enter the room in a flurry of movement. The youngest at five years, Oberyn, took no time to climb the bed so he can sit near his mother. Elia, who is only a year older than Oberyn followed in more sedated pace, helped by their oldest, Crown Prince Doran.

"Children, this is your new sister, Princess Maya of Dorne." Their father, the Prince Consort announced as his wife held their daughter for their other children to see.

"She's pretty." Elia said after seeing her sister.

The Prince Doran smiled after seeing his newest sibling. "She'll be the fairest Princess in all Dorne."

Oberyn scrunched up his nose. "She looks funny... and loud and squishy."

"Oberyn!" His mother gasped, appalled, while his father couldn't help but let out a quiet chuckle.

"What? She is!" The young Prince protested, looking like he would cover his ears anytime now..

It was the eldest child who decided to interfere, before his brash but truly loving brother would placed his foot down his mouth further. "It might be true for now, dear brother. But years from now, many Lords around Westeros would sought her out for her beauty, to make her the Lady of their Noble house."

Oberyn frowned. "Why would she be the Lady of the Noble house? She's a Princess! Shouldn't she marry a Prince?" Came his innocent question, supported by his slightly older sister who nodded along. The two youngest had been taught by the Maester to read, to write, and to do math, but not politic, yet. They would learn soon enough, but right now the two adults and one who almost of age felt it was much too cute and decided to just indulge the young Prince and Princess.

"You're right, Oberyn. Princess Maya should only marry a Prince." The Prince's father said, to the amusement of his wife and his eldest. The babe looks like she was exhausted since her crying had reduced to loud whimpering.

There's a determined glint on the young Prince's stare. "Then I'll make sure she'll only marry a Prince. Let those Lords come, I'll whack them with my sword." He said as he moved his hand as if he's using his wooden training sword.

"Would you do the same for me?" Elia asked with her soft voice.

Oberyn look at his sister as if he couldn't believe she just asked that. "Of course I will, you're a Princess, too, sister. Only a Prince will be good enough for my sisters." He said haughtily.

"Right, now that you've seen your new sister, it's time for you and Elia to sleep. Come on, it's past your bedtime." His mother urged.

"But I'm not sleepy!" He protested, only to betrayed by his own yawn.

"A sleepy Prince can't protect the Princesses." His father said.

The Prince pouted, but relented. "Fine!" He said. He then moved to dish a sloppy kiss on his new sister's cheek, still whimpering as tears continue to fall from her little eyes. "Bye, sissy. Love you, even if you almost burst my eardrums." He said, before allowing his older sister to take his place and say her goodbye. "Come on, Elia. I'll escort you to your room." Said the Prince, offering his hand to the Princess to take.

"Protective, that one." The Princess Arielle whispered conspiratorially, only to be answered with an amused smile of her husband and his namesake. The Prince Doran might not express himself well, but the Princess knew her eldest would protect his siblings as fiercely as Oberyn.

After the two youngest left the room, the eldest, too, bid his goodbye. "I should probably go, too. You two look exhausted. I shall soon go back to Salt Shore to finish my fostering."

His parents smile at their heir. "You do that, son. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mother, Father."

As the room emptied of children, the attention of the two adults turned back to their newborn. By now the babe had truly exhausted herself as she only sniffles once in a while.

"You, Princess Maya of Dorne, would be the most loved Princess of the entire Westeros." Her mother said to her sleeping babe.

She didn't know how true it would be in years to come.

Princess Maya strives to be first in everything; first to talk, first to walk, first to read, and many more that it astounded both her parents and the Maester. She flourished under the attention of her siblings. Sometimes she would be seen curled up on the lap of the Prince Doran, listening patiently as he read her whatever book he was reading at the library, just to spend time with her older brother. Sometimes she would be seen in the company of Princess Elia as she braids her younger sister's thick, curly wine red hair. Another time, she would be seen chasing around his brother Oberyn around the Sunspear or Water Gardens.

She grow up to be a healthy toddler, often seen with her wine red curl bouncing around behind her as she run past the corridor of her ancestral home. Her limbs still short and chubby, making her look more adorable. Her skin had retained a bit tan, but still being the fairest of all her siblings.

But the most enchanting thing about her was her purple eyes, the vibrant violet colour. It was unusual as it was mostly a Targaryen trait, but not impossible given their blood relation to the ruling clan. Prince Consort Doran himself was a descendant of Michael Manwoody who married to Elaena Targaryen, the youngest daughter of King Aegon III Targaryen while Princess Arielle was a descendant of Prince Maron Martell who built the Water Gardens for his wife, Princess Daenerys Targaryen, the daughter of King Aegon IV Targaryen.

There's another thing about those eyes, and it has nothing to do with the colour or it's shape. The eyes looks too old to be on a toddler face. Too wise, too knowing that it sometimes unnerved someone who took their time to look deep inside. Even her father once japed that despite being the youngest, her daughter have a soul older than even him.

How true that was.

Deep inside Princess Maya of Dorne's consciousness, lived a witch who once was known as Hermione Granger, the Brightest Witch of the Age. A witch out of this world. She had been a student, a soldier, a war veteran, a hand of judgement, a ruler... She also had been a child, a teenager, an adult, a mother, a grandmother, even a great-grandmother. She had took, she had give, she had fight, she had conquered, she had failed, she had succeed, she had lived, and she had died.

The last one was not really a surprise for her. Afterall, Albus Dumbledore had preached about it as it was just the next great adventure, and she had been an old lady herself, almost as old as the said man. But whatever next great adventure that awaited her, she never imagine it would be this kind.

At first she was in denial, refusing to believe that something like this could happen to her, that she wouldn't be inflicted with the Potter's luck as she called it if something bad happen. She had often squirmed when being held by her supposed parents and siblings, to be left alone to reasoned how this could happen.

Then she was mad, want to scream to the world that she didn't signed up for this. Afterall, she had imagined to be reunited with her parents, her grandparents, cousins, and whoever left the world before her. But instead, she got this? Stranded in a foreign world that's not even earth... The result is a temper tantrum that was still talked about to this day, worrying her new parents and siblings, and the Maester tiptoeing around the Royal family for having no answer to what had bothered the babe so, fearing for their life.

Then she had bargained. She prayed to Jesus, Mary, the Seven - as she heard one day her... Mother mentioned it - and whatever believe she could find to get her back to the world she came from or be reunited with her long dead family... but none of them answered.

Then come the depression. She became quiet. So quiet that her new parents feared that their daughter had become a mute. She refused to eat, refused to move, just lay there to waste in her cradle. And that night, when everyone else was asleep, she had been woken up by the sound of a mother's cry. Her new mother had sat on the floor next to her crib, praying to whatever God she believes in to spare her daughter from the fate that befalls her two children who had died in the cradle. To tell them that she didn't want to have to bury another child. For the kid to thrive and to outlive her. And it tore at her heart.

She had once been in that position. Her daughter Rose had come down with dragon pox, and although it can be cured, it was hard for her tiny body. There were several times that she thought her child wouldn't survive, that she would have to bury her like Molly had to bury Fred, or Andromeda to Tonks. Could she inflicted the same pain to this woman who didn't know that her child was not really a child?

Her subconscious mind had answered for her when her tiny hand moved on top of the woman's own without her realizing. The woman had stared at her, eyes red and cheeks wet with tears. She then called her with her new name, asking her if she was hurt, if she was hungry, if she wants anything even if she knew she wouldn't answer. The Princess then shouted at the guard outside her chamber to call her daughter's wet nurse, who came immediately as if her life depended on it (which probably is). She had been lifted from her cradle to be passed on to the servant, placing her near her breast. Her mother had watched, waiting with baited breath for her to latch on the servant's teat, and when she did, the woman sagged to the floor, crying in relief.

That's when she accepted that she was now having a new life. To live if only to see this woman happy. She might mourn the life she had left behind, but consoled herself that it was over, that there's no need to cry over the spilled milk. That instead, she should viewed this as her second chance to live her life better, to do what she couldn't do in her past life. And she did.

It was not all rainbow and unicorn, though. It was hard to pretend to be an infant, and she found herself counting the day it was acceptable to reach some milestone as to not rouse suspicion - and she did remember it by heart as she had been hands on with her two children in the past life - therefore become the first to anything. She also had to adapt to be the youngest child, to have older brothers and sister by blood that always be there since the day she was reborn, unlike the Weasleys who she only knew after she was a tween as their youngest son's friend and later on brother and sister by marriage. And she finds that she quite like it, as opposed to her lonely childhood in the past life.

Her parents try their best to be there for their three children - as Prince Doran was fostered elsewhere -, sharing their duty of ruling Dorne so they can be present more often. The Prince Consort would handle the military and political side, while the Princess handle the household and preventing the discontent of the people, including the small folks. They would have a family dinner at least thrice a week so they could see how the children doing. If they have recess, they would seek out their children and just... interacting with her and her siblings to relieve their stress. In fact, because they mostly work from home, it was ironic for Hermione that her Princess and Prince Consort of parents have more time to spend with their children rather than her former dentists parents.

Speaking of her siblings, she can say that she has a unique relationship with every one of them. The eldest, Prince Doran she only start interacting with properly when she was two since he had been fostered in Salt Shore. As soon as he was home, Hermione started to develop her relationship with the quiet man. Doran, as the much elder brother reminds her a lot of Bill Weasley in a way that his presence has a calming effect on her, and also his sense of adventure since he planned to venture Essos someday - which he did when Hermione was four. It wasn't all that with Doran, as he have a scheming mind and can be as manipulative as Albus Dumbledore. She was thankful that he at least put the family first, and not as a pawn. She shuddered to think that she could be in that particular position.

She would seek out his presence, either in the library or his study, then climbed on his lap, asking what he was doing. He would send her an amused smile, before reciting whatever he had been reading or doing, just indulging his youngest sister, thinking that she wouldn't understand. She would listen and stored any information that she deemed useful in her mind, helped by her occlumency shield. She had spent two years at home, before - like she said - he went to Essos, wanting to explore the land beyond the Narrow Sea, so in the first five years of Hermione life as Princess Maya, she only spent two of them with Doran, making him the sibling she spent the less time together with.

The next sibling she spent the least time with in term of duration is Elia, but not because she didn't want to. It was just the fact that Elia was more fragile, and her health was not that good because of the circumstance of her birth as a preemie. She was not allowed to go out a lot, and mostly spend her time in her chamber or with the Septa, learning embroidery, sewing, and many activities that were too much girly-girly for Hermione's taste, not to mention, she's not very good at. As a reminder, she just needs to remember the disaster that was her S.P.E.W champaign at Hogwarts, which her knitting products were not even worthy to be worn by the elves.

Thankfully, her parents were not the type to forced their children into activities they don't really enjoy, so when she asked to be trained in combat, instead they immediately agree to it, as long as she still attends her lesson with the Maester. In fact, they were delighted as Princess Arielle is quite famous for her skill with spears, while the Prince Consort is no slouch either in sword fighting. So when she was four, Princess Maya started her lesson with Oberyn's tutor, Daeron Sand, a bastard son of one of the Martells' vassal house. She surprised both her tutor and older brother when she succeeds to dodge every attempt to target her by the wooden training sword her tutor used on her first lesson, even as far as complimenting how she was a natural born warrior. What they didn't know was the fact that while her body was never in a fight, her mind did. Not to mention, the instinct born of War and countless assassination attempt when she had been the Minister of Magic just wouldn't go away. Sure, she's a bit rusty, but with a little bit of training, there would be nothing holding her back.

And speaking of training, she couldn't help but mentioned her brother, Oberyn. The simple explanation about her older brother is that he's... Sirius Black through and through. She always wondered if perhaps he really was Sirius's reincarnation, but when she tried to call him with variation of the name he had been called with in the last life (Sirius, Black, Padfoot, Snuffles), Oberyn just stare at her confused, and asked if she was alright. So... that's out. But seriously, he was the most 'Sirius' person she ever met. Even when he hadn't yet reached his ten names day, she could already see he would grow up to be the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. He could probably charm the panties off of most girls in Dorne if not Westeros by the time he was five and ten years old. He is a fierce fighter with a quick wit and sharp tongue, but also rash to the point that he often took unnecessary risk, resulting in most injuries that honestly could be avoided (and here, she feels the need to check if he's not really Sirius, again). Despite all his Sirius-ness, Hermione felt the same way about him like she did with Harry, which had been her brother in anything but blood, but with Oberyn, he really did shared her blood. That means Oberyn would die for her, as she would for him. And in this strange world, it did comfort Hermione greatly to have someone like him.

TBC

A/N: No offense to Wilf Scolding, but he just didn't do it for me. I mean, Cersei described Rhaegar as beautiful, while others called him handsome. Not that Wilf himself is not handsome, but he inspired no 'Wow' effect like we thought when we read/heard about Rhaegar. To be both beautiful, yet handsome my mind just automatically thought it probably better for the casting director to choose some androgynous model or something. It's not like he would appear much in GoT, anyway. I'm partially inclined to Ton Heukels, myself (I think he's beautiful with capital B). Or Jaco van den Hoven, or Valery Kovtun, or many others (sorry, Wilf's fans). What do you think? Is there someone you thought to be more Rhaegar-like?


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to George R.R. Martin and J.K. Rowling.

A/N: I've finished this one, too. So I thought, hey, why not published it? I don't have schedule to published or anything like that. I write for my pleasure, so don't expect regular update. As usual, don't like, don't read. I didn't get paid anyway, so I don't have much time to deal with your bullshit. Cheers.

Chapter 2

* * *

Water Gardens, early 266 AC

"I don't think this is a good idea, brother." Hermione warned. Her brother just smirked.

"Aww, come on sister, nothing would happen. We're not going far." He said. "Now, come."

Hermione sighed, but followed his adventurous older brother. Right now, they were sneaking out of the property so Oberyn can explore. Explore what, Hermione didn't even have a clue. Afterall, there's nothing but desert and rocky hill beyond the property. But she guessed it was more to satiated Oberyn's sense of freedom and his affinity to push his boundaries.

Doran had just left for Essos, and even if they just connected for the past two years, Hermione no doubt would miss her brother. So to cheer her up, her parents decided to send their children to Water Gardens, the place they frequented when they need downtime.

They were ten minutes walk from the border of Water Gardens when Hermione feels her magic stirred, like it warned her about some kind of danger ahead.

"Oberyn! Brother, please, stop."

"What is it, sister? Are you chickening out?" He teased.

"No! But there's something..."

That something turned out to be a pack of coyotes, their head peaking out of a small hill in front of them. Their nose twitched, sniffing out potential prey, some even growled with saliva dripping out of their mouths.

"Oberyn, get back! Slowly, brother." She whispered harshly. He obeyed, backing out slowly, eyes still fixed on the wild beasts. When he finally reached his sister, the beasts had drawn closer, circling them like they are some kind of nice, juicy fresh meat, which probably they are. He holds her hand tightly, heart pounding, probably matched with Hermione's own.

"I'm so sorry, sister. I shouldn't have-"

"We shouldn't, but we did." She whispered harshly. "Now, we just have to get out of here."

But their option was taken when suddenly, the pack decided to attack. Oberyn tried to shield her with his body, but she had thrown her hands forward and cast protego non-verbally, hoping her magic could help her and her brother.

Loud crunchs and pained whimpers gave assurance that the spell works. Now, there is a transparent dome surrounding the two siblings. The beasts tried several times to launch themselves, but got the same result as their other pack mate.

"What the- H-how..."

But Hermione didn't get to answered as at the same time, they heard a group of guards calling their names. The commotions dissuaded the beasts to pursue their prey. Spooked, they swiftly backed away, leaving the two siblings alone. Hermione barely got the time to cancelled her spell before the guards surrounding them.

Hermione was taken into her nursemaid's arm, who assumed Hermione paleness was caused by fear, not magical exhaustion. Oberyn caught her eyes as he recounted their encounter with the coyotes -minus the dome of protection, of course- and his stare conveying his needs of explanation. Hermione sighed, but nodded at her brother.

It was later that night Oberyn snuck into her chamber, demanding explanation.

"What was that, Maya?"

"Magic." She answered simply.

"M-magic? B-but how? And since when?" He sputtered.

The little girl shrugged. "I don't know. And I guess, since I was born."

Oberyn frowned. "What do you mean since you were born?"

She backpedaled. It won't do for him to have a suspicion that she remembers her infant years. "I just... I always have it, Oberyn. It's not something that I learn from a book."

Oberyn hummed, deep in thought. "But why you? And why now? People always said that magic died after the last dragon did."

"Mayhap they're not, just... sleep."

"It could be." He nodded, and looked her over. "Mayhaps it has something to do with how the Targaryen's trait showed distinctly on your person. I mean, sister, you're the only one of us Martell, who has those purple eyes since the union between Daenerys Targaryen and Maron Martell. In fact, I don't recall father's relatives have those eyes in history, not even the children of Elaena Targaryen and Michael Manwoody. And the Targaryens was said to have magic on their blood."

"It's possible, brother." She said, seemingly to take his brother's theory into consideration, while deep inside, she was relieved that her brother had put forth the theory first instead of her trying to convince him about the origin of her power. It would be suspicious if she came out with that theory at four years old of age, she had to be careful not to appear too knowledgeable as it is. It's not like she could tell him that she was a reborn witch. Besides, she also wondered if that particular theory wasn't entirely wrong.

Oberyn seems satisfied that his sister agree with him. But then concern flooded his face. "But why don't you tell me, sister?

"I... couldn't."

"Why? You know you can always tell me everything."

She fidgeted. "Mayhaps because I was scared."

"Scared? Scared of what?"

"That... that you wouldn't want me as your sister anymore."

Oberyn looked affronted. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I'm a... f-freak." She said, tried to looked as an innocent four years old.

His jaw clenched. "Who told you that, sister?"

"No, no, it's not like what you think. You're the only one who know." She explained. Oberyn looked a bit relieved, but his stare prompt her to go on. "It's just... The septa. I once asked her about magic, and she said all who believe in them was a freak, and they should be burned at the stake." Well, she didn't lie, but that's not what the septa said exactly, more in the line that magic was herecy, and those who believe in it were heretics, but it's technically the same thing. And she did said something about burning people like that at the stake, so she didn't feel too bad on basically throwing her under the bus.

Oberyn almost snarled in anger. "I'll kill her first before she hurt a hair on your head!"

She grimaced. "I know that, now. But, you do understand why I didn't tell you before, right brother?"

Oberyn's face softened. "Of course, sister. But now that I know, you can count on me to always protect you."

She smiled. "I know. Thank you, brother."

"No need to thank me for that, sister." He said. He seems to contemplate something before he opened his mouth. "What about our parents?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "No! No! Please, brother. Please don't tell our parents!"

"Why?"

"Just because." She said, but didn't elaborate further. "Can't this just be our secret?"

Oberyn sighed. "Alright, sister. This'll be our secret."

Hermione smiles and hug her brother tightly. "Thank you, brother."

* * *

Red Mountain, near Kingsgrave, late 266 AC

Hermione watched the trees they passed from the window of their wheelhouse. It's quite a change from the desert she was used to in Sunspear or Water Gardens. Her mother was embroidering a piece of clothes, trying to stave off the boredom of this long journey. Elia had been opted to stay in Sunspear as it wouldn't be good for her health to be on a long journey.

They were on their way to Kingsgrave, her father's childhood home to see her father's brother, and also her cousin, Dorea Manwoody, before they would continuing their journey to Sand Stone, where Oberyn would be a squire to Lord Qorgyle.

She sighed.

To be honest, she dreaded this journey. This would mean another of her siblings would leave the nest, so to speak. But for Oberyn, it was more than that. He was her brother, her best friend, her confidant, her partner in mischief - althought it was usually Oberyn who got them in trouble -, her secret keeper, and many more. It was as if she would loose a part of her limbs. She would live, but it would be incomplete.

Suddenly, the wheelhouse jerked and come to a stop.

"Why we're stopping?" Asked her mother to one of the Martell's guard.

"Apologies, Your Grace, but we've got a problem with the wheel. We have to fix it before we can continue our journey."

"How long would it take?"

"We don't know yet, Your Grace, mayhaps an hour or two?"

Her mother sighed. "Make sure to fix it soon."

"Yes, Your Grace." The guard said before he was off to do his work.

"Mother, may I go outside? I want to see Oberyn." She asked politely.

"Very well, daughter. Just don't get into too much trouble, alright? Just like you usually got with Oberyn." Her mother sighed and Hermione had the decency to look sheepish. "And don't go too far. This forest could be dangerous." She added.

"Very well, Mother." She said before bounding out of the wheelhouse. He was greeted by the image of her brother tying his horse to the nearby tree. "Oberyn!"

Her brother turned and gave her a large smile. "Sister! Come. I saw a clearing not far from here. You can collect the flowers if you will." He suggested, which she readily agreed.

Collecting flowers really means collecting potion ingredients. Hermione had brew some healing potion and bruise salve from some of the plants in Water Gardens and small herbs garden near Suntower, and although she had to subtitute some of the ingredients with less effective substance, alas, it was better then the Maester's remedy. Oberyn could give a very thorough and flattering testimony about it, as he was a frequent user of her salves. Of course, she had to feign that she found a similar recipe on Maester Caleotte's stash of books and modified it, but it's not like Oberyn would questioned it further as he was easily distracted when it come to academic pursuit.

They're just being there for about half and hour, with Hermione frolics around the clearing, collecting tree bark, moss and fungi when once again Hermione felt her magic stirred. It wasn't like when Oberyn found out about her magic, though. This one is more... pleasant, but otherwise it still calling on her magic.

"Oberyn, come see this. Isn't the flower pretty?" She tried to attract his attention subtly. There are some guards around them, not wanting to repeat their blunder on the Water Gardens, but otherwise they gave them space.

"What is it sister?"

"Look at the white flowers." She said loudly, before whispering to her brother. "There's something out there. Nothing dangerous! Or I guess it isn't, but I need to go."

"You're right sister. It's indeed very pretty." He said just as loud, before whispering back. "Is it something to do with your magic?"

She nodded slightly. "It's such a shame we don't have it in Water Gardens." "I need you to distract the guards."

Oberyn gave her a nod. "Indeed, sister." "Where is it coming from?"

She pointed her chin to the North.

"Hey, sister, want to play? See if you can cath me!" He shouted before running to the South.

"Prince Oberyn!" The guards was busy giving a chase to the Prince that had run out to the depth of the forest.

She pretend to to give a chase, too, but swiftly turn direction once the guards didn't notice. She ran and ran until she found a ravine. She carefully climb down as she felt the pull the strongest below. She came across cave like structure made of large tree roots. She was hesitant seeing how dark it was and quite deep, too, but braved herself. She crouched on the mouth of the cave and cast a lumos to see inside, it lit up the tip of her pointy finger. She inched closer to the inside of the little cave and run her finger from left to right. She almost missed it, but she found a huddled shape at the very end of the cave. It looks like a dark grey kitten from how chubby it looked, but it was the size of adult cat. It had his back on her, so she can only see the slightly bended legs.

'Looks like the runt of the litter that had been left by it's mother to die.' she thought.

"Come, kitty kitty, come here." She called. The huddled shape bounded itself to her. As it got closer, Hermione can finally see it's eyes and she gasped. Although it was now silvery grey in colour and not the yellow Amber she used to, she could always recognize those eyes. The eyes of her familiar and long time confidant.

"Crookshank!" She called out loudly. The kitten mewl and butt his head on her outstretched hand. "Oh, come here, my old friend." The kitten jump into her arms as the two nuzzled each other. "Oh, it's so good to see you." She cried into his soft but a bit coarse fur, while the cat - now Shadowcat as she realized - purred at her.

After what it feels like forever, they finally ended their tearful reunion. "Do you want to come with me, my friend? Be my companion again?"

The cat inclined his head and let out what it sounds like confused noise, as if to say, 'Isn't that obvious?'

Hermione laughed. "Of course, how stupid of me. Come, let me introduce you to my family here." She said, as the cat got comfortable in her arms. She climbed up the ravine and continuing her journey through the path she had passed earlier. The closer she got to the clearing, she could hear the guards calling out her name.

"Princess!" The guard who first saw her called out in relief. "I found the Princess!" He shouted, alerting the other guards. But then his eyes -and dozens who saw her- widened as he saw what was in her arms. "Princess, that-"

"Where's my parents?" She cut him off.

The guard stuttered, but pointed in the direction of the road. She nodded and walked in that particular direction.

As soon as she got closer, she could see her mother, as the more vocal of the two, ranted and shout at Oberyn, while their father, although silent, could be seen giving a mix of disappointed and angry look to his son.

'I'll have to make it up to Oberyn later.' she silently promised.

At the crunches of dry leaves made by her shoes and dozens of the guards, her parents look at the direction of the noise. They, including Oberyn, gasped with their eyes widened as they saw the little Princess of Dorne, and it has nothing to do with her dirty dress.

"Daughter! Put that thing down!" Her mother said, voice full of worries.

"No!" She said defiantly. "Can we keep him?" She asked as she turned on her puppy dog eyes at her parents. She thought both her parents jaw would drop to the ground.

"Princess, my dear, it's a Shadowcat, not a pet." Her father said when he finally found his voice again

"But Crookshank is good. He won't harm people, I promise! Please, please, please, can we keep him?" She was sure she sounds like a brat, but hey, needs must.

The parents look conflicted. Their daughter rarely asked for anything other than more books, but still... it's a wild animal. They were worried that someday the beast would attack their child. Meanwhile, Hermione could see Oberyn mouthing off the name incredulously, as if in disbelief that his sister named the beast with such a ridiculous name. She just rolled her eyes slightly.

"Princess-"

"Please, please, please! He will be good, won't you, Crooks?" She talked to the kitten, as he purred at his mistress. "See? He's such a good boy."

Her parents look at each others, as if communicating with only their eyes. Her mother's eyes narrowed, still not convinced, but she can see her father's resolve crumbled. She admitted, she was such a daddy's girl in both lives, and it had the benefits sometime. Finally, her father turned on her while her mother could be heard heaving a sigh of defeat.

"Very well, daughter." He said, and Hermione couldn't help but smile widely. "But! If something happens, you have to let me do what have to be done, and you won't be upset about it."

She nodded eagerly, and she was sure she looks like Dobby at this instant. "Yes! Anything. Thank you, Father, Mother."

"You're welcome. But, this doesn't mean you won't get punished as soon as we arrived at Kingsgrave. You did wander around alone in the forest after your mother told you not to."

She deflated a bit, but knew she did deserved whatever punishment her parents would dished on her. "Very well, Father, Mother."

"Good. Now get on the wheelhouse. It's fixed now, and we would only need two or three hours until we arrived at Kingsgrave."

She nodded and proceed to climb up the carriage with her mother following closely.

'At least she would have a friend when Oberyn is not with her.' she thought as the carriage moved.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to George R.R. Martin and J.K. Rowling.

A/N: As usual, don't like, don't read. I didn't get paid anyway, so I don't have much time to deal with your bullshit. Cheers.

Chapter 3

* * *

Sunspear, 270 AC

Clack! Clack! Clack!

The sound of two wooden swords colliding had been the norm for the past two years. Doran, when on his tour of the Free Cities had stumbled upon Water Dance competition and thought it would suit his sister fighting style, so he hired Syrio Forel, a bald and thin Braavosi man who was also a former First Sword of Braavos, chief protector of the ruler of Braavos and sent him to Sunspear. The man had gushed that she was a Water Dance's prodigy after he spar with her the first time, especially when she throw her practice sword to the air, dodging his attack, catching the sword mid-air and then used it again to counteract his next blow. Of course she couldn't tell him it was because she had been a rhythmic gymnast for four years before Hogwarts in her first life with specialties in clubs and ribbon, so moves like that wasn't foreigns for her. To her, the water dance is like a combination between fencing and gymnastics moves.

Hermione saw an opening as she feinted to the left then move quickly to the right as she hit the sword on the base of her teacher's skull, a move that could kill him should it had been a real sword. Master Syrio gasped, but then laughed as he admitted his defeat.

"Bravo! Bravo! Always a pleasure to teach you, Princess Maya." He complimented her.

"You're too kind, Master Syrio."

"No, no, no. You have more than deserved it, Your Grace." He denied. "Now, I think that would be all for the day. It was such a nice day, too. I'm sure you'll find more exciting activities to enjoy your day." He suggested.

The girl smiles. "Thank you, Master Syrio. I think I will take you up on that. Maybe a walk in the city is due."

She bids him goodbye to take a quick dip in the bathtub, before getting ready for her excursion. Crookshank waited patiently on top of her bed for her to get ready.

"Come, Crooks." Hermione called her Shadowcat who growled happily at his mistress. The beast had grown since, and now was at astoundingly twelve feet long, five foot height from head to toe and weight at least six hundred pounds. Hermione had to reinforced her bed several times with magic as to not break with how big her familiar had become, so big that she could easily mount the cat like he was a horse. He was even larger than any Shadowcat people had reportedly seen in the wild, thought Hermione blamed it on regular food and of course, her magic. She, through her familiar bond, had accidentally fed the cat magic, making him smarter and stronger. He can also feel her mood, and could track each other easily through the bond.

As they walk around the market, they were greeted warmly by the common folks. There are still some wary glance over her Shadowcat, but mostly from foreign merchant or people who visited the city, while the town's people look at the beast like some kind of hero.

It started when one night, Crookshank was prowling around the city. He had heard a scream and shot out to the source's direction. He found a young girl almost raped by a drunken young man. Crookshank had bitten his arm, scaring the man so much that he pissed himself before fainting. The city's night guard had found them like that and taken the man into custody. His arm had to be amputated to save his life as it was crushed beyond repair by the Shadowcat's jaw. Hermione thought it was a just punishment so he can't place his hand where it doesn't belong. The girl Crooks saved, then spread the word about her Savior, and 'The Beast of Dorne' had become the town's favorite. He would sometimes join the night patrol and the men didn't really mind. In fact, they thought he was a great help as he could hear trouble from miles away. Hermione, too, didn't mind. At least he found something worthwhile in his spare time.

As for Hermione... Ah, how she was going to explain it? Well, it started when she had to make it up to Oberyn for covering for her when she found Crookshank, so she decided to make cookies to send for him. Nothing complicated, just sugar cookies, something that she made often with her mother and continued the tradition with her own children and grandchildren in her first life. But it seems like butter is rare on this part of the word as it need a naturally colder climate to make it solidify, like the northern part of Westeros, or if there were some, it spoils quickly from the heat, so she tried to find the alternative for butter. She asked a servant to find her some coconut - and there's a lot of it in Sunspear as it was on the shore -, procured it's milk, and then cooked it to make oil. She then used that to make the sugar cookies and it tastes better than her first try. She had made many batches of it, before sending it to Sand Stone via courier. Oberyn had loved it so much, that he asked for it to be sent moonly to him.

Then she got an idea that there's so much potential about coconuts. She made a list, discussed the potential with Maester Caleotte -who is so excited about it - before she present it to her parents, including the sample of her cookies and coconut oil. The soft shell, they can use it as fuel for fire or making ropes, and the hard shell be made into Bricket or activated carbon, the milk can be used directly or be made oil, the coconut water can be drunk directly or be made into nata de coco, and many more potential. Her parents were so impressed they immediately asked their people to plant more coconut trees for future use in case they would need more than what they already have. There's also another potential they overlooked; salt. She figured they could make salt flats on their land.

Speaking of coconut oil, there's also another product that could be made of it: margarine. But for that, she need cool temperature to solidify the texture. Sure, it was easy with magic, but to do it the Muggle way, she didn't really understand the mechanic of a refrigerator. She thought it was a hopeless case until she remember the Persian Ice house, and the shallow pool where people can make ice even in the desert. She knew the basic, of course, but she decided to discuss the details with Maester Caleotte. At first he was skeptical, but when Hermione asked some men to build shallow pool and the shell-like structure prototype and it indeed can produce and stored ice, the Maester was superficially impressed, that he sent the details to the Citadel. That's a six, almost seven years old little girl could solve a problem that was deemed impossible by even the Archmaesters caused an uproar up there, that they sent some of their contingent to Sunspear. They were totally impressed by her, that they award the Princess honorary links. Oh, she still wasn't allowed to enter the Citadel as it was still a male only community - something that irked her terribly -, but she can send her invention and her name would be recorded as honorary acolyte. There was even a talk that they want to call back Maester Caleotte to the Citadel so he can be replaced by someone more 'competent', like Archmaester, but she refused as she liked the man. Besides, those ancient men would likely be too set on their way that it would be more of a hindrance than help.

Soon, the shell-like structure grow in the city like fungus. It seems like every few hundred feet, there would be an ice house and shallow pools you could find. The folks were delighted that they could enjoy ice everytime they wanted, particularly in hot summer days, as they rarely ever have ice in this part of the world sans at winter, and even then only some part would have it. Whatever ice they didn't used for coconuts byproducts, the folks used to make icy drink with blood orange -that seems to be Sunspear's trademark fruit - or lemon juice. Words spread and people would come from all over Westeros and even some part of Essos to see for themselves what they call 'Dornish Ice'. Other than that, the building also useful to store meat, dairy products, vegetables, or any food products so it won't spoiled quickly as it worked like a giant, primitive refrigerator. The dusty city behind the Old Palace that once was named Shadow City was now bright and busy and had been renamed into Sun City. In fact, it had become so busy that they had to build another port so more ship could dock in Sunspear.

Sure, it present another problem. The busy traffic also mean more pirates attracted to this part of the world, especially on Sea of Dorne and Stepstones. Dorne had only a handful of fleets, as they never build the Navy to full capacity since Princess Nymeria burned all of her ships when she came to Dorne the first time, so she suggested that her father rented common folks ships so the guards can patrol the sea for the time being while they build their Navy force. Her father had asked how she knew about these things, so she half-lied that she got the idea from listening to Doran when he talked about military strategic.

In short, Dorne and especially Sunspear, was prospering because this slip of a little girl. They owed their relatively comfortable life to her, and it inspired loyalty that some Lords could only dreamed of. She believed that should someone tried to hurt her, the town folks would likely put the perpetrators' head on the spike, if Crookshank didn't get them first, of course.

Suddenly, Crookshank's ear twitched as he become annoyed. Hermione gave Crooks the signal to led her to whatever trouble he had heard about. They arrived at the back alley of a bakery, a fat balding man was shouting at a boy on the floor who was holding his side, seemingly had been kicked or punched by the man.

"What's going on here?!"

The old man's eyes widened before he kneeled on the floor as he realized who just shout at him. "Your Grace."

"Well, start talking!"

"This boy," the old man glared at the said boy. "had stole a loaf of bread from me."

She looks at the boy who seems no older than three and ten years old. His dirty blond hair was matted and his hazel eyes cast down to the ground. He looks malnourished, like he didn't get to eat well for the past moons, but still looks quite tall for his age. His face was pale as the old man accused him of thievery. "Is that true?" She asked.

"Y-yes, Your Grace. But it was a stale one, I promise! I won't steal it if it was a fresh one, and I'm so hungry, so please, please, Your Grace, have mercy." He explained quickly.

Hermione was surprised at his confession. Her eyes narrowed at the old man who was now having gone even more pale than the boy. "You hit a child over a stale bread?"

"Lies! Your Grace, he-" but he didn't continue his sentence as Crookshank got into his face and growled menacingly.

"Careful, old man. My Crookshank can smell it if you lied."

"I-I..." The man started sweating. Crooks growled once again before opening his jaw menacingly, displaying his set of sharp, white teeth. "YES! YES, Your Grace! The boy's telling the truth! Please don't let him eat me!" He shrieked hysterically that Hermione thought he would pissed himself anytime soon.

Hermione scoffed. 'Like I would let him eat you. You're probably so sour Crooks' mouth would curled for a week.'

She reached inside her cloak's pocket and took a few copper coins out, before throwing it to the stingy old man. "Get your freshest loaf of bread and a glass of milk."

The man looked up at her. "Your Grace?"

"Now!" She commanded, and the man scrambled back inside his store.

"What's your name?" She asked softly to the boy.

"E-Edric, Your Grace."

"Y-your Grace." The old man had been back with her order. She took it and turned without giving the man a backward glance.

"Come, Edric." She urged the boy, who followed her a bit reluctantly. She found a building with a closed door that have some steps that they could use to sit. She sat first, then urged the boy to sit beside her. "Here, eat this. Don't mind my presence." She said, giving him the bread and milk.

"T-thank you, Your Grace."

She smiles. "You're welcome, Edric."

She acted like she didn't pay attention to him as she absentmindedly scratch her familiar's head and neck, making him purred. But she did actually paid attention to the boy. He was clearly saying the truth when he said he was hungry because he finished the bread as quickly as possible without looking too greedy.

"Where do you live, Edric?" She asked after he finished the last of his milk.

The boy look surprise that she cared enough to ask. "I... just here, Your Grace."

She frowned. "Here, where?"

"Here, o-on the street, Your Grace."

Her eyes widened. "What?! B-but, it's freezing outside!" How else they could make ice on the shallow pools and harvested it before dawn if it isn't that cold?

He just gave her a bitter, sad smile.

"How long have you been on the street?"

"Moons, Your Grace. After my mother d-die... I was thrown out of the house by our landlord."

She got up suddenly and offered him her hand.

"Your Grace?"

"Come with me, Edric."

"But... Your Grace?"

She took matters into her own hand, literally, by taking his hand and dragging him with her.

"Your Grace! W-wait. Your Grace!"

She just glared at him to shut up and just followed her lead. The boy who is taller and older than her in physique flinched and cowed at her that he then just let her take him wherever she wanted. They walked by the market and passed through the crowded street, ignoring the whispering folks as they saw the Princess dragging a boy behind her, while her big Shadowcat followed closely.

They encountered Ralf, her parents' steward as soon as they come inside the palace.

"Where's my parents, Ralf?"

"In their solar, Your Grace."

She nodded. "Alright, thank you Ralf." And they're off to the solar.

* * *

"Do we have enough gold to rent more of the fishing boat? There's two pirate attack on merchant ship en route to Sunspear at Stepstones this week only." Prince Consort Doran Martell asked as his wife, Princess Arielle check on a log book.

"We have plenty. We can rent at least fifty more for a year. And after we dried the fish we already have, we could save it in the... what was our daughter call it, again? Ah, refrigerator, so it can last us for long."

He let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks the Seven. But I can't wait for our own fleets to finish. Those Tyroshi pirates are getting bold these days."

The Princess gave her husband a sympathetic look. "I know. But think on the positive. That means our trade has increased, too." She shoothed him with a smile.

The Prince Consort smiled back. "It thanks to our daughter. She truly is a blessing. And to think we never even thought about building back our naval army before..." He shook his head. "Our son Doran must be proud that she listened to his military talk. She's right in thinking that should the worst happen, Dorne's weakest point for attack would be from the sea. Our desert protect us from invader on the land as it was harder for them to cross over. Those Northern steed are nothing against our Sand steed. Lots will die of dehydration before even reaching Sunspear."

The Princess chuckled. "Oh, don't remind me. I thought our little daughter had been swapped with Doran when she started talking about Fleets, naval, weakest point... That, or somehow our son had been warging into our daughter." She japed.

The Prince Consort laughed. "Oh, you. Don't tell me you believe those warg, grumkins and all those nonsense the North talked about."

They were interrupted when suddenly, the door to their solar opened abruptly. Their daughter was dragging a boy behind her, who scrambled to his knees as soon as she stop.

"Your Grace."

He gave the boy a slight inkling of his head, just to acknowledge him, while his wife just smile unsurely. "Who is he, Princess? Why are you dragging him here like some kind of criminal to be judged?"

His daughter gasped. "What?! No, of course not, Fath- Your Grace." She said, almost forgetting about the right decorum in front of their subject.

"Then, tell us, Princess." His wife said.

She told a story about an orphaned boy who lived on the streets for moons and how they met. The said boy looks embarrassed, as he refused to lift his face.

"-please, Your Grace, give him a job, make him your ward, anything, just please don't let him sleep on the street anymore." His daughter finished, but not without him seeing her wet eyes as she sniffles a bit at the end.

"Look at me, boy." He said softly, but with a hint of command in his voice. The boy obeyed. "What's your name?"

"Edric... Blackmont, Your Grace." The three members of Dorne's Royal family look at the boy, surprised.

"Blackmont? Why are you not with the Lady Larra Blackmont, then?" The Prince Consort asked.

There's a glint of anger in the boy's eyes when the Lady Blackmont was mentioned, but he soon done his impassive mask, again. "My father had died a long time ago, and my mother was a baseborn. When we... when my mother and I went there, we were turned away and told to never comeback."

"And your mother?"

His mask slipped a little, letting the Prince Consort caught a glimpse of sadness in his eyes. "Dead, Your Grace."

The Prince Consort stroke his beard, deep in thought. The boy was probably turned away because the Lady Larra still held prejudice against bastard as she wasn't from Dorne. A bastard woman's son is as good as a bastard itself in her eyes. But to just throw a kid and his mother to the street?

He look at his daughter and knew she would fought tooth and nail so the boy could have a better life other than on the street, so was his wife it seems. And the Blackmont was not big in number. In fact, the only known Blackmont was the Lady Larra, her daughter Jynessa and son Perros. If somehow they perished, he would have the gratitude of possible heir of Blackmont. But if not, then maybe...

"How old are you?"

"Two and ten, Your Grace."

"Tell me, Young Edric, what do you say if I take you as squire?" He asked. He could see from the corner of his eyes that his wife approved of his move, clearly on the same wavelength with him, so was his daughter if the smile she sported was a clue as this would seems more than her expectation.

The boy lift his head, surprise. "Y-your Grace, I would be forever grateful, but... why? I'm no Lord nor heir. I have no keep. Even my kin," he sneered at the word. "turned me away. I don't think I have anything to offer." He finished sadly.

'Ah, smart, this one.' he thought. 'Humble, too.'

"But there is, Young Edric." The boy look at the Prince Consort, eyes wary but hopeful. "Loyalty."

He frowned. "Pardon, Your Grace, but since my ancestors bent the knee, we always loyal to the ruler of Dorne."

"That may be true, but that's not the loyalty I was talking about." The Prince Consort said. "Let's cut this short, alright? Be my squire, and after you were knighted, be the sworn shield for my daughter, Princess Maya. Do you accept?"

The boy's jaw dropped. Considering the best he expected was being given the job of a lowborn or worse, being turned away like what his kin did, this is like a blessing to a boy who had spent moons of his life on the street.

"I ask again, do you accept?" The Prince Consort voice woke him up from his stupor.

"Pardon, Your Grace. And yes, I-I'll be honoured to."

The Prince Consort smiled. "Good." He said, before looking at his daughter. "Maya, my Princess, would you be a dear and tell the maid to prepare a room for Young Edric? Also, don't forget to tell them to run a bath and bring him new clothes."

His daughter's smile was big as she curtsied. "As you wish, Your Grace."

He smiled back. "You're dismissed."

"Thank you, Your Grace." The boy and his daughter said in unison. She then turned to the boy. "Come, Edric. Let me and Crooks show you around the Suntower as we wait."

"As you wish, Your Grace." The boy said as he let the Princess led him out of the room, her beast in tow.

"Well, at least she would have a playmate other than that beast of her." His wife mused.

But the Prince Consort frowned. "What if they... You know, when they grow up?"

His wife raised an eyebrow. "What? Falling in love?" He nodded. "What brought this on?"

"It's just... Lord Tyrell recently had a newborn baby boy, Willas, the heir of The Reach and wished for a bethrotal with our youngest daughter."

"And your answer?"

"Like any other before him, that there wouldn't be a talk about betrothal until Maya is at least five and ten." He said. "But I can't help but worry he would refuse any suitors should she fall in love with another."

"Hmm... Well, then, should worst come to worse, we could always give him a keep and a land to lord. This way, Maya would always be close to home. She's done so much for her land, that I refuse to denied her love should it comes to that."

He smiled. "Then we have nothing to worry about."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to George R.R. Martin and J.K. Rowling.

A.N: I've got a bit of free time and wrote this, but this week and the next would be hell for me, so I can't guarantee that I will have time to write the next chapter, let alone published it, soon. As usual, don't like, don't read. I didn't get paid anyway, so I don't have much time to deal with your bullshit. Cheers.

Chapter 4

* * *

273 AC

The family, except for Doran who was to be the castellan and not wanting to leave his bethroted, Mellario, left Sunspear in a quest to secured bethrothal to both Oberyn and Elia, and while her parents still stick to their rules on not discussing bethrothal before their children at least five and ten, it doesn't mean that they couldn't look for a potential groom for Princess Maya. Elia found it all exciting, as it was the first time she was allowed on a long journey because of her delicate health. But Oberyn were often bored, and preferred to amuse himself by mocking his older sister's potential suitor. So far, he came up with Little Lord Lazyeye, Squire Squishlips, one he named the Whale That Walks, that sort of thing. Hermione of course didn't entirely approved of it, but she admitted some really deserved the nickname. The only one who was even halfway presentable was Baelor Hightower.

"A pretty lad." Oberyn had said, and Elia was half in love with him already, but Hermione really couldn't stand how he was overdoing everything. The smarmy git reminded her a lot of Gilderoy Lockhart. So when he was in their presence, Hermione secretly sent him flatulence jinx, making sure he had the misfortune to fart in their presence. Oberyn had laughed out loud and promptly named him Baelor Breakwind, and after that Elia couldn't look at him without laughing.

"That was brilliant!" Oberyn exclaimed when there was just two of them.

"I don't know what you're talking about, brother." She said, face the image of an angel. "Maybe Lord Baelor just feel a little bit... gassy."

Oberyn rolled his eyes, then. "Yeah, and I'm the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms." He said sarcastically, but smirked at his sister.

Then, their mother received a raven about the Lady Joanna Lannister's death. As they were in the Old Town, already, she decided that the family should pay their respect to her dearest friend.

Casterly Rock was still in mourning when they arrived. Such a queer time to come visiting, but she learns for a long time that if her mother had decided something, there's not much to do to deter her. She was stubborn and impulsive, something that Oberyn inherited.

The Lord of the castle ignored them the whole time after commanding his brother to see of their entertainment. To be honest, Hermione partially understood why the Lord is doing this. He's still grieving after his beloved wife just died giving birth to his son, as Hermione refused to call him a monster like some whispers around the place. It's just dwarfism, not a contagious deathly disease. Besides, it's not like he asked to be born that way, and Lady Joanna just unfortunate to succumb to the blood loss as she gave birth. She wonders if the Lord Lannister would react the same way to his children if the Lady died after giving birth to the twins, because as far as she know, birthing twins is far more risky than birthing a single child.

They were placed in the rooms that was dark and windowless that Oberyn half jokingly called their cell as it remind him of the dungeon, and Hermione agrees with him. Sure, it has featherbed and Myrish carpet, but still. And that's not even the last thing Oberyn complained about. The skies were too grey, the wines too sweet, the women too chaste, the food too bland... And Hermione would just roll her eyes at her brother's antics.

One day, their parents had asked for a meeting with Lord Tywin, obviously about the betrothal. Then Cersei, the oldest of the Lannisters siblings promised to show them her brother. She and her twin Jaime took them to her brother's nursery. The wet nurse tried to send them off, but Cersei was having none of that.

"He's mine," she said, "and you're just a milk cow, you can't tell me what to do. Be quiet or I'll have my father cut your tongue out. A cow doesn't need a tongue, only udders."

Hermione was incensed at her statement, but decided to bite her tongue. 'For now.' she thought.

Cersei undid the swaddling clothes to give them a better look of the baby. And despite the heterochromia and the slightly larger head, the baby was just that: a baby. Elia even made a cooing noise, as if he was just another baby. And he is, in Hermione's opinion. He's not a monster.

"He seems like a poor sort of monster." Oberyn commented, and Hermione really want to elbow his gut or stomp on his feet.

"He killed my mother." Cersei said before twisting her brother's manhood so hard Hermione thought she was like to pull it off, much to all the rooms occupants but Cersei's horror.

"Stop it! You're hurting him!" Hermione shouted as the baby shrieked.

"Leave him be, you're hurting him." This time, it was Jaime Lannister who said it, and Cersei let go of the baby.

"It doesn't matter." she told them. "Everyone says he's like to die soon. He shouldn't even have lived this long."

"And his life would be shorter with a sadistic bitch as his sister! Now put him down on his crib, you nasty piece of shit!" This time, she couldn't hold her tongue any longer as she glared at the little girl. She glared back at her, but put the crying baby down.

"The lion doesn't concern itself with the opinions of the sheeps." She said, but Hermione couldn't help but think she just quoted the lines somewhere - probably her father - without the ability to back it up. She let out an almost hysterical laugh.

"Oh yeah? But you forget, little lion cub, that you're not facing the sheeps right now. You, are in the presence of the dragon hatchlings. And do you know what happen when a lion faced a dragon?" She put on an eery smirk on her lips, completed with maniacal gleam on her eyes. "They burned."

Cersei flinced. She tried to glare menacingly at her, but to Hermione, it was as effective as a kitten trying to scare a fully grown lioness. Useless.

She then huffed, before leaving the room.

As soon the little annoyance was gone, Hermione done the swaddling clothes back and took the little baby out of his crib, rocking him back and forth, trying to calm him down. "Hush, little baby. You're safe now."

From the corner of her eyes she can see Jaime looking at her with intrigued slash confused glance.

Oberyn let out a whistle. "Remind me to never, ever be on your bad side, sister. Dragon indeed. I thought you'll breath fire anytime soon." He said as he give her a wink.

Hermione's jaw clenched. "Well, she have no right to do that. He's just a little baby." She stated, which Elia agree with.

"Do you really think that? You don't think of him as monster?" Suddenly a little voice asked. She turned to look at Jaime who seems to judge her honesty.

"I mean what I said, Jaime. He might have dwarfism, but he's still a human. A little baby at that. It's not a curse as everyone believed it to be. It's just... genetic mutation."

He just looks at her confused.

"Have you ever heard about me getting honorary links given by the Maesters at the Citadel, Jaime?"

Jaime nodded. "I heard about it. They say you're smart, probably smarter than the Maesters."

She smiled. "Well, I'll take that as a compliment. But you see, Jaime, I really like to learn. And one of the things I learned included human genetic. In simple term, what makes you, you. Like how Lannisters have golden hair and green eyes, or Targaryens have silvery blond hair and purple eyes, or Baratheons have black hair and blue eyes."

"What's that to do with Tyrion?"

"Well, you see Jaime, when people marry with someone who are still closely related to them, sometimes there's some bad traits that show more prominently on their offspring, even causing genetic mutation. But it's not always happening, just increasing the chance of their children having some kind of deformity, whether it's physical or mental. If I'm not wrong, your late mother was your father's cousin, no?"

Jaime nodded.

"Well, there's a big chance that Tyrion's condition was caused by inbreeding. I'm not trying to dictated your life on who you choose to be with, of course. But it would be best for you to considered someone who are not too closely related to you to marry."

Hermione didn't know how this would affect the Lannister heir's life, she just thought it'd be best to warned him about it. She had accidentally read the surface thought of the Lannister girl as she stared her down, and her relationship with her twin is a bit unhealthy in Hermione's opinion.

"Of course there's another example of this. King Jaehaerys Targaryen said that madness and greatness are two side of the coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, he said, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land. Unfortunately, it seems that it landed on the bad side when it comes to our King."

Jaime had paled, but nodded at her.

The babe had calmed down and look sleepy so Hermione put him down on the crib.

"I heard you want to be a Knight, Jaime."

The boy beamed and nodded excitedly.

"May I ask what the Knight's oath include?"

"To be brave, to be just, to defend the young and innocent-" Jaime would have continue if not for Hermione raising her hand.

"Then protect your brother, Jaime. Protect him from your sister, from your father, from the world who will not judge him kindly. I guarantee you, Jaime, that at least in my eyes, you'll be far nobler than those sword wielding Knight."

The boy blinked a few times, but then smiles and nodded.

"Good. Now, I think it's best if we left Tyrion to his nap. Come." She said, as she put her hand on the boy's shoulder, ushering him outside, followed by her two siblings.

They just arrived in the drawing room when they saw Cersei smiling smugly at them. Too smug for Hermione's liking. Before long her parents made their way to the same room. Her father's face was a cold mask of anger, while her mother's face still slightly flushed red. Her mother gave a tight lipped smile to her children.

"Ah, there you are Oberyn, Elia, Maya. Please, tell the servant to pack your bags as soon as possible. We'll leave in the morrow when the sun rise."

Hermione sighed. 'I take it the discussion didn't end well. Not that I'd like Oberyn to marry Cersei, anyway. But it seems the Lannister Lord had slighted both of my parents.'

"Yes, mother." She and her siblings answered dutifully.

* * *

Braavos, 277 AC

Hermione walked with Oberyn, Crooks and Edric in tow as her brother showed her around the city. They had met again after almost three years at the Tourney Lord Steffon Baratheon held in Storm End before they set to go to the Free Cities.

After that disastrous trip to Westerland, they had come back to Dorne where Oberyn was caught in bed with the paramour of Lord Edgar Yronwood. They had duelled to first blood, but Lord Edgar's wounds festered and killed him. Oberyn was accused to have fought with poisoned blade and has been known as the 'Red Viper' ever since by friends and foes alike. But Hermione know the truth. Oberyn didn't use any poison, it was just a bad case of infection, and Oberyn had been hurt with that accusation. But her brother, in his usual style, just shrugged and said "If they accused me of it, why don't I really use it from now on?"

Afterward, Oberyn was sent to Oldtown where he forged his links for a while, including a link in poisonous substances, before he went to Lys in temporary exile in order for House Martell to make peace with House Yronwood at Doran and her parents' insistence. Hermione didn't see her brother since, but regularly write to each other. She had expressed her interest to go to the Free Cities, but her parents had been adamant that she stay until she was of age.

It wasn't until Lord Steffon announced the Tourney at his land that she tried to persuade her parents again. Her parents had been in a better mood after the Tourney in honor of Prince Viserys' birth at Lannisport, where they heard rumors of the King's rejection to wed Cersei Lannister with the Crown Prince. So when she asked, they had been more agreeable.

She, Edric, and a small entourage of Dornish Guards had sailed from Sunspear to Storm End. She had been so excited to meet her brother again that she had hugged him at the first sight of him. Oberyn being Oberyn had hugged her back before spinning around with her still in his arms, laughing loudly. They made quite a spectacle with their un-noble like conduct that even the Crown Prince had looked at them briefly with amusement.

Ah, the Crown Prince, Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone. Hermione admitted that he's probably the most handsome man she's ever seen. If she didn't know Veela doesn't exist in this world, she would think he was one, or at least a descendant of one. She knew, of course, about the supposed Valyrian ethereal beauty, she saw a painting of her Targaryen ancestors, but seeing in painting and in real life is quite different. He had that typical silver blond hair, wearing no crown, but simple braids on the side of his head, and purple eyes, although it was more dark indigo that in low light looked dark blue. He was tall, probably 6'2 or more with muscular but lean body, wearing black and red doublet adorned with three headed dragon. But there's something in a way he carries himself, like some sense of melancholy that made him unapproachable.

She had sometimes caught glimpses of him other than when he unseated Oberyn in joust, and the only people close to him are Jon Connington and the Kingsguard, Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan Selmy. He was quite good at joust, too, especially when he comes face to face with Ser Arthur where he broke twelve lances before finally unseating him on the thirteenth tilts. But even he has to admit defeat to Ser Barristan the Bold. When he removed his dragon helmet after he got up from the ground, it was the first time Hermione saw him smile. A genuine one, as if he really was having fun, and Hermione thought it was quite nice and he should have smiled more.

Another notable thing from the Tourney was that Edric had been finally knighted after he won the melee. He was knighted by Lord Steffon, before he fulfilled his promise to Hermione's father and sworn an oath to be her sworn shield. Not that he needs an oath to protect Hermione. He has always been her protector, whether it was her body or even her secrets, including her magic. She had confided in him just a year after he becomes her Father's squire, as he was her closest friend, best friend even, and she didn't think she could hide it from him. He took it quite well, and instead of fearing her power, he thought of it as a gift from God, and if anyone deserves it, it would be her. She had given him her infamous Hermy Hug, making him blush bright red, but got his promise to keep it secret. He even covered for some of her accidental magic over the years, something that earned him her gratitude.

They left just a day after the Tourney end, eager to explore the Free Cities. Oberyn told her about his life as a sellsword for the Second Sons after he left Lys and so far, he quite enjoyed it. He even told her that he had bedded a noblewoman of Volantis and a golden haired septa. Hermione could just shake her head at hearing about her brother's escapades.

Today, though, they explored the market in search for trinkets, anything with Valyrian steel in it. She wanted to make Katana, but since Valyrian steel in the form of weapons is so very rare and expensive, she resigned to have it made. So far, she got a wine jug, figurines, some brooches, and other little trinkets made of the said steel from antique stores. Not enough to make one, least of all two she intended to have.

Suddenly she feels her magic stirring. Something, or someone was close. The presence wasn't evil per se, but it feels... scary. And then she smells it, cloying the air around her. The smell of death.

TBC

A.N: so, is it quite a cliffhanger? A little glimpse of Rhaegar. Another thing, I was thinking William Levy as Ser Edric Blackmont, but you can always use your own imagination if you like. As usual, don't like, don't read. Bye.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to George R.R. Martin and J.K. Rowling.

A.N: Sorry for the delay. I'm super duper busy lately, and I wrote this bits by bits before I went to bed, so... Yeah. I'm still quite busy so don't expect regular update, just what little I can spare the time to write, but at least I try, and it's almost twice longer than any previous chapters. Oh, before I forgot, thanks for all who reviewed this story, sorry I can't reply to everyone, but your contributions are much appreciated. As usual, don't like, don't read. I didn't get paid anyway, so I don't have much time to deal with your bullshit. Cheers.

* * *

Chapter 5

"Valar Morghulis." A voice said.

She look at a man, not so much older than Oberyn, with his curly long hair peaking out of the hood of his grey cloak, white streak on his brown hair.

Crookshank had moved in front of Hermione, growling, while Oberyn and Edric followed closely, hands on their weapons, but didn't unseathed it, yet. Out of the two, Oberyn look a lot paler, so he must have heard that phrase somewhere and knew it was bad news.

"Faceless Man." He whispered, but loud enough for all of them to heard. Hermione gasped, while Edric's eyes widened.

'No wonder he was frightened. Faceless man is a group of dangerous assassin, famous for their ability to 'change' their face.' Hermione thought.

The man just look at Hermione, not minding two men and a Shadowcat in front of her. He smiled. "A girl should answered a man with 'Valar Dohaeris'."

Hermione just stood there, speechless. "I..."

"What do you want?" Oberyn asked harshly after unseathing his poison coated dagger, holding it close to his body as they don't want to incited panic on the busy market, but ready to stabbed it into the man's body should the need arises.

"A man has need with a girl. A girl has to follow a man to the God's house."

Oberyn scoffed, his bravado coming back. "What? So you can kill her? Well, sorry to disappointed, but you have to kill me first."

"A man wasn't here to give a girl the gift."

"Then what do you want?" Oberyn said impatiently.

"A girl need to follow a man to the God's house to find out."

"Like hell-"

"Oberyn, stop!" She warned. She then look at the man. "Do you swear that no harm will come to me if I followed you?"

Oberyn gasped. "Maya!"

"A man swear no harm would come to a girl." The man answered, ignoring anyone other than Hermione.

"Then, fine. I'll follow you." She decided.

"But-"

"Come, then. A girl shouldn't waste more time." The man said, turning and walk in different direction. Despite Oberyn protest, she followed the man, keeping their distance.

"Maya, are you sure? He's dangerous!" Oberyn hissed at her.

"What choice do I have? I don't think he would give up, so I thought it's better to just get it over with." She hissed back. Oberyn grumbled, Edric was silent, and Crooks look wary, but still, they followed the man to a building not too far from where they met the man. The House of Black and White.

The man waited in front of a massive door, leaning against it. As soon as they got closer to the door, he gestured at them to stop. "A girl's brother and a girl's shield stay outside. Only a girl and her pet could come."

"What?! No way! Come, Maya, let's just get out of here!" Oberyn shouted, almost hauling her out of there. But she held her ground.

"Oberyn! I won't go alone. He said I can go with Crooks. He'll protect me. Besides," she whispered. "I've got my magic."

"But-"

"Please, Oberyn. I can feel that it's important for me to go."

He looked conflicted, and she knew from his body language that he rather hauled her arse far away from here than letting her enter the building. "Fine! Just... be safe, alright?"

"Always, brother." She said, before she and Crooks walk up to the door. The man opened it just wide enough for Crooks to get through, with her following behind. She looks back just before the door closed and nodded to both her brother and best friend.

The man directed her to a hall, and she gasped at how many faces that were displayed.

"This is the Hall of Faces, faces of the people who had been given the gift." The man said. Hermione turned to look at him. "As a girl was."

Her eyes widened. "H-how? How do you know?"

He smiled. "Because a man can't gifted a girl what had been given by the Many-Faces God."

She contemplated his words. "So, you can't kill me? Even if someone asked you to?"

He shake his head. "Like a man said, a man can't give a gift for the second time."

"Then, why did you brought me here?"

"To give a girl three boons."

"What boons? And why?"

"The first boon would be a warning. The army of the dead still rest under the snow, a Long Night won't be here for years to come, so a girl have time to prepare."

Crooks growled. She gulped. "You mean the Others?"

The man didn't answer, instead he produce a bundle and a slender case. "The second boon. Dragonsteel."

Crooks sniffed the bundle and the case, making sure it was safe, and back away, satisfied. She opened the bundle and found various little trinkets made of Valyrian steel, enough to make two Katana and still have spare for maybe a spear head and a slender rapier sword or shortsword. She shuddered to think where did it come from. 'Probably from the... worshippers. That means it came from dead people.' she thought. But nothing could prepare her for what's inside the case. It was a hand-and-a-half longsword of Valyrian steel. The pomel have big Ruby and the crossguard epicted two dragon heads. "Is this Blackfyre?"

"It is." The man answered.

Hermione look in awe at the sword once wielded by Aegon the Conqueror himself. She weighed the sword, it's lighter than it looks, like any other Valyrian steel, but when she tried her grip, it was too long for her stature as she expected she wouldn't grown much in the future and thought it wouldn't suit her. "It's too long for me. But thank you, nonetheless."

"The sword is not for a girl. But a girl would know who it belongs to." He said cryptically. "The third boon." He then handing her an iron coins.

"What is this for?"

"So a girl can ask for help from a man. Just say the word, a man would try to help."

"Anything?"

"As long as the God allowed a man, yes." He said. "As to why a man gave a girl the boons, a girl had been touched by the Many-Faces God, and the Many-Faces God was fond of a girl. But a man can't served a girl, for a girl is not the Many-Faces God's Master."

She didn't know if she should be happy or scared that Death was fond of her, but the last sentence piqued her interest. Many-Faces God's Master. Master of Death.

"What if I asked you to served me as the last boon?"

The man chuckled. "A girl is smart, but a man can't do what a girl asked, for a man served no Master other than the Many-Faces God and the God's Master."

She deflated, wishing Harry was with her. Nobody can deny the advantage of having trained assassin on your beck and call. She shrugged. "Oh, well, I tried. So, the last boon still stands, then?"

He nodded. "The last boon still stands." He said. "Come, a man will show a girl and a girl's pet out."

She strapped the sword on her back as there was no way it would fit on her waist, while Crooks took the bundle in his jaw. They walked on the path they passed earlier, then the man opened the black and white door to let Hermione and Crooks out. Oberyn, who was pacing like a caged lion look up and sighed in relief as he saw his sister, so does Edric whose frowned smoothed into a slight smile. She turned to the man.

"Valar Morghulis. All men must die." He said.

"Valar Do... I'm sorry, I don't-"

"Valar Dohaeris. All men must serve."

"Valar Dohaeris." She repeated. The man nodded before he closed the door.

* * *

Water Gardens, 279 AC

Hermione dodged yet another attack from a spear that was wielded by her niece. "That's good, Obara. Keep it up." She encouraged. She dodged once more before with a twist of her hand, she succeed to disarmed the little girl.

"Good. You're probably doing better than your father when he was your age." She complimented her. The said girl was beaming at her words.

"Really, Auntie?"

She smoothed her short hair. "Really. You'll be the best spearwoman Dorne will ever have at this rate."

The grin that she sported only widened, as if it could split her face, and Hermione couldn't help but smile at her niece.

Obara is the latest addition to the residence of Water Gardens. Oberyn had come home to Dorne not long after she went to the Free Cities, bringing two of his baseborn daughters from Essos: Nymeria, a daughter of Volantis noblewoman, and Tyene, a daughter of a septa. He had missed Westeros and decided to visit Old Town, where he went on his temporary exile at six and ten years old. He didn't expect to meet a woman from pleasure house that he had bedded there with a child beside her. Oberyn knew from the first sight that Obara was his, and he asked her to choose between him or her mother. Obara had chosen him, and had been the residence of Water Gardens since.

Hermione of course didn't approve of her brother's womanizing way, but at least he loves his children, that's his redeeming quality. She think it was the only reason her parents didn't disinherited him and just chucked him out to the street. Even in more liberal Dorne, having not one, but three baseborn children, especially for a man of his station are frowned upon. Her parents had given up on the prospect of marrying him to a trueborn daughter of some Noble house, so they just let him having paramour here and there.

"'Bala!" Her other niece, Arianne, run to them with her tiny little feet, followed by Nymeria and little Tyene behind her. "Let's play!"

Hermione took Obara's spear from the ground. "Go, Obara. Be careful, and look out for your sisters and cousin."

"I will, Auntie."

And she's off with all three dragging her to the water pool.

"Crooks," she called her familiar, his head inclined to the right as if asking her why she was calling him. "Please go and keep an eye on them." He grumbled a bit, but followed her instruction. He wasn't fond of water like any cat, but he loves those children as much as Hermione loves them. Hermione's smile wanned when she caught sight of Mellario, Doran's wife, and gave her a stiff nod. She replied just as stiffly, before following the kids to keep an eye on them.

Her relationship with Mellario was always frosty. She was too flighty for Hermione's taste, and if she was honest, a bit of an airhead. She's like this world version of Lavender Brown, and it was known Hermione almost never got along with her former roommate. Not to mention, Mellario have a temper like Mount Vesuvius. She would lash out at Doran for the stupidest thing that left her wondering why he still stay with her. But Doran claimed to love her, so Hermione at least try her hardest to tolerate her.

She deposited the spear into the training weapons room before she was approached by a maid.

"Your Grace, His Grace the Prince Consort, Her Grace Princess Arielle and both of the Princes and Princess had been waiting for you in their solar."

She frowned, but thanked the maid for the information. She made her way to the solar with Edric as her mostly silent shadow. He greeted the Royal family before closing the door behind her.

"Father, Mother, everyone, a maid said you're looking for me."

Her father and brother Doran smile at her greeting, although it looked a bit strained to Hermione. Her brother Oberyn was sulking in the corner, while Elia looks a bit dazed, with a dreamy smile on her face. Her mother on the other hand, looks like a cat that got the canary.

"Yes, we are, sweet daughter. Come, sit."

She followed her mother's instruction. "So, what is this about?"

Her mother looks like a kid in sweet shop. "A Royal summon just came via raven from King's Landing. Apparently, the King had chosen to tied our family with the Targaryens once more via marriage. We, I mean your father and I, will come to King's Landing as soon as possible to discussed the term. Isn't this exciting?"

'Ah,' she thought. 'so that's what this all about.'

Seems like the King had given up on waiting for a sister wife for the Crown Prince. She also heard rumor about the late Lord Steffon's failed mission to find a bride with Old Valyrian heritage across the sea for the Prince. It's tragic, really, as the ship that brought them back from Essos had sunk just within seeing distance from their own Keep and their people could only watch in horror as their Lord and Lady lost their lives. The Velaryons or Celtigars have closer tie to Old Valyrian, but they are neither Lord Paramount or the ruling family of a Kingdom like the Martells.

"It is, Mother." She replied. She then look at her sister, a happy smile on her face. "Oh my, Elia, sister, you're going to be the wife of the Crown Prince, the future Queen."

Her sister blushed, but that dazed, dreamy smile still on her face. "It is, isn't it?" She said, giggling at the notion.

"I don't like it." Oberyn pouted.

Hermione just rolled her eyes. "When did you ever like any of our suitors?"

Ever since she was five and ten, she had to joined Elia on entertaining the guests that had come to Sunspear, looking for a match for themselves. Mostly comes from around Dorne, the Reach, even Riverland. So far, nobody catched hers or Elia's attention, or if it did, they were soon driven out by Oberyn hovering around or his crude jokes.

"Well, because nobody is good enough for my sisters. Not even the Crown Prince." He replied defiantly.

"Awww, brother, you're so sweet." She cooed at him.

He just raised an eyebrow. "Tell that to the persons who had been on the other side of my spear."

She could just shake her head at that. His reputation as the Red Viper had been more prominent ever since he wielded his spear with the Valyrian steel spearhead, the one that had been forged with the steel she got from the Faceless Man. He had named his spear The Reaper, and she shuddered at the implication. As for the rest, she had underestimated the amount of steel she got. Other than her Katanas, she was able to forged fake claws that can be strapped on Crooks' paws - she didn't know why she did it, but had a gut feeling that he would need it - and a thin longsword, thinner than regular sword, but not as thin as a rapier. But even as thin as it was, no other steel could break the sword, not even Castle forged steel. She had given it to Edric, and he named it Whitewind, as you can only see a white blur when it was swinged.

"Enough, the two of you." Their mother chastised. But Hermione know she's doing it half-heartedly. "Now that's out, your father and I need to prepare for our departure. You know how the King was prone to change his mind abruptly." She said, worry slipped on her tone.

Hermione got it at once. Her mother just pointing out the King's mental instability.

"Oh, stop sugar-coating it, Mother. Just say it, the King was mad." Oberyn snorted. "Not that anyone would objected to the name. He earned it."

"Oberyn!" Their mother gasped. "Do be careful of what comes out of your mouth. The walls have ears." Hermione very much doubt that. She had ensured that her parents Solars and Bedrooms in Sunspear and Water Gardens have privacy runes etched on every surface of the walls, doors and windows. Some has been carved as small as possible to avoid detections, some hidden by tapestries, paintings, or wall ornaments. But it's not like she could tell her parents that. She was still hiding her magic from them. "Besides, he was to be your sister's good-father."

Oberyn just rolled his eyes. "Something I didn't look forward to." He mumbled. And Hermione understood his brother's concern. He worried that sweet, gentle Elie would be exposed to such man. But she also heard that since he comes of age, the Prince was rarely seen in the Capital, most of the time staying in Dragonstone, the ancestral seat of House Targaryen. She assumed that's where Elia would spend most of her time in the future. After all, she was to be the Princess of Dragonstone alongside her future husband.

"When are you going?" Hermione asked, hoping to divert the attention from her brother.

"On the morrow, after the sunrise." Her mother replied, giddiness seeped into her voice.

Hermione smiled. At least her mother was happy. "Then I hope you and Father a safe trip, Mother."

* * *

King's Landing, 279 AC

Tywin Lannister wasn't happy. Not that like he indulged in happiness ever since his Lady wife passed, but he was even more so ever since the King sent the Royal Summon.

After Duskendale, the King's behaviour was even more erratic. If he was a bit touched in the head before that, now he's simply mad. Tywin took pity on Steffon when Aerys sent him on a fool errands across the Narrow Sea, even more so when he didn't come back alive. And now, since he didn't get his Valyrian bride for his son, he turned on the next best thing: the Dornish brat with diluted Targaryen blood.

Why can't he see that his precious Cersei was better than any other candidates? By marrying her to his son, not only he would got supported by Lannister gold and securing the alliance with the most powerful family in Westeros, but Tywin can guaranteed that the next Crown Prince would be even more beautiful than his father. How could he not? Cersei was said to be one of the most beautiful girl in this part of the world -not surprising given her mother's beauty - saved for some like Ashara Dayne, the sister of Sword of the Morning, and infuriatingly enough, one of the daughter of the couple he was about to meet.

Tywin had hoped by the years he tolerated Aerys' antics, he would get something out of it, like how his blood would someday sit on the Iron Throne, a legacy that would last for a long time, but no, all he got just more insult, humiliation, and degrading glance as if he was better than him. Him, the Tywin Lannister, the Great Lion of the Rock, who annihilated the Reyne-Tarbecks without mercy.

Now he would have Tywin treated with the couple who he all but thrown out of his castle?

There's a knock on the Small Council room's door before Ser Jon Darry's head peaked in. "Your Grace, the Princess and Prince Consort of Dorne." He announced.

"Let them in." The King said.

The couple went in, barely looking at his direction after addressing the King. "Your Grace, it's an honour to be in your presence."

Tywin at least feel satisfied that the King didn't respond like they probably hope for. He just regarded them with cold eyes. "Let's get to the business. My stupid wife couldn't bore me living children other than the two sons she managed to keep, let alone sister wife for my eldest. You two are of the blood of Old Valyrian, even if not as much to my liking, but I guess it would have to do. I want a bride for my son, and you will gave it to him."

"Of course, My King, we would be delighted for our daughter to be the Prince's bride." The Princess smiled, even if it was a bit strained.

"Good. Now what's the name of your youngest?" The King asked. It was like what Tywin predicted, afterall, the girl already have a reputation as one of the most brilliant mind in Westeros, at least academically. What he didn't predict, however, was the response from the Princess.

"Princess Maya, My King. But," she paused. "we believe it would be more beneficial to arrange the marriage with my eldest daughter, Princess Elia."

The King narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"My King, of both of my daughter, Princess Maya is the more adventurous one. She likes to travel, and mastering martial arts. She's young still, and I doubt she would take well to be tied down at this time. Princess Elia on the other hand, she was well versed in managing a household as I personally taught her to. She's a devout Faith of the Seven followers. She likes to sew, sing, and can hold a court of the Ladies well. But more importantly, she was at the age to bear children. So I proposed to match the Princess Elia with Prince Rhaegar."

King Aerys narrowed his eyes. "You sure she could bear children? I thought she was the sickly one."

The Princess Arielle is about to open her mouth, but Tywin cut her off. "She is, My King. I saw the girl myself a few years ago when they visit Casterly Rock, looking to match her with my son, Jaime."

The Princess glared at him for a bit - and Tywin reap a grain of satisfaction out of it - but soon composed herself into an indifferent mask.

The King narrowed his eyes at the Princess. "Is that true? You ought to gave me a damaged vessel?"

Tywin lips almost curled upwards seeing the couple bristled at the King's insult.

"My King, the health of my daughter Princess Elia is not as bad as when she was but a child. In fact, with new medication invented by my daughter Princess Maya with the help of our Maester, Maester Caleotte, her health didn't gave her trouble for the past years. I'm sure she would bear a lot of children for the Prince."

"And if I still want your youngest?" He inquired.

There's a determined glint on the woman's eyes. "Then I'm afraid, My King, we wouldn't consent to marry our daughter to your Prince."

Tywin very nearly smirked at the couple, as he knew how well it would goes down with the King. King Aerys growled. "You dare! You dare to defy me? Me! Your King!"

"No, Your Grace, we only want the best for the realm, and in our opinion, it would be for the Prince to marry Princess Elia rather than Princess Maya."

Tywin narrowed his eyes. 'A good move would be to betrothed the Prince with your youngest, you stupid cow! If I didn't want my own daughter on the Throne, I would pushed for it to be the healthy and smart child over your sickly, flat chested one.'

King Aerys clenched and unclenched his hands several times, before slapping his hand to the arm of his chair. Tywin was sure he wouldn't agree, but he should have know nobody can predict the thought of an insane man. "Fine! Pycelle!"

"Yes, Your Grace?" The ancient Grandmaester answered.

"Write the contract. The Martells and I will sign in the morrow. After that, you ought to write to all the Lords in Westeros that my son, Prince Rhaegar Targaryen is to wed Princess Elia Martell."

"As you wish, Your Grace." He said dutifully.

Tywin really want to wipe the smug look on the woman's face, to spoon her eyes out of it's sockets for the triumphant gleam on it. At least her husband has the decency to look wary at the decision. 'Now it was clear who have the brain out of the two.'

"If that's all, Your Grace, we would like to ask your permission to retire to our room, as we didn't rest quite well enough on our way here."

"Yeah, yeah. Go." He dismissed them. The woman curtsied, and the Prince Consort bowed at the King before they leave the Small Council room.

"My King, I have to object with the choice of Elia Martell. The girl is sickly, I doubt she would be able to bear strong and healthy heirs for the Throne. Maybe you should consider more, stall the signing, postponed it for a week or two."

King Aerys scoffed. "Then what? You'll offer your daughter? I already told you, Tywin, my son wouldn't marry a servant's daughter. Got it? Remember your place, Tywin. Remember your place."

Tywin Lannister clenched her jaw and hands. "Yes, My King." He said through gritted teeth. 'One day I'll have my revenge. Lannisters always pay their debts. One day.'

* * *

Meanwhile in a chamber where the guest of the Red Keep stay, the Princess and Prince Consort of Dorne still at a heated discussion.

"Please, my love, considered it once more before we sign the agreement. I'm still not sure it is wise to betrothed Elia with the Crown Prince. This is the Crown Prince we're talking about, my Princess, he and his family would expect Elia to bore him children as much as she could. Elia's health was not that good to begin with. I feared that it would be a problem someday. Won't it be more sensible to offered him Maya, instead?"

The Princess just glared at her husband. "No. I would not budged on this. The King want a Noble bride of Valyrian heritage for his son? It's either Elia or not at all."

The Prince Consort sighed, knowing what's the real reason behind his wife's stubbornness. "This marriage would be for life, my Princess. Your petty revenge on Tywin Lannister could have far more consequences than we ever prepared to face."

"He dared to insulted us by offering Elia his deformed dwarf son! I can't just let it slide. Now let him eat his own words! My Elia would be the future Queen instead if his brat of a daughter." She snarled.

The Prince Consort closed his eyes, feeling the start of a headache coming. He knew they were mostly treated each other as an equal in their marriage, but the fact remains that she's the rightful ruler of Dorne, so he can't do much if she had set on her decision. "Very well, my Princess. I just hope your grudge-fuelled decision won't bite us in the future." He said, ending their discussion.

What they didn't realize is that a servant in the Lannister Lord's payroll had heard what were said. Soon, the Old Lion would know what's inside the supposed private conversation between the couple.

* * *

Tywin strode to his solar in the Tower of the Hand after another Small Council meeting. It has been weeks since the betrothal of Crown Prince Rhaegar and Elia Martell was finalized, and the two Martells had left for their home just two days after, eager to prepare for the upcoming wedding.

Tywin would never forget the haughty look the Princess Arielle sent him. The pride on her face, and the way she walked as if she alone just become the Queen of the world. Tywin would never forget.

And she should know better than to wake a sleeping lion if she didn't want a mauling.

He found a letter on the top of his desk. Only one sentence contained in the paper.

It is done.

Tywin smirked, as he never laughed nor smile after his wife's passing, but it was close. Finally, he has the last laugh.

* * *

Two days later, the whole Westeros gave their condolences for the late Princess and Prince Consort of Dorne that had been killed in pirates raid just outside of Shipbreaker's Bay, a few miles away from patrolling Dornish Naval guards. The one occurrence that casts a big, black shadow on the sun of Sunspear.

* * *

TBC

A.N: I know, i know, I'm evil to kill their parents. In canon, we didn't really know what happen to the last Princess and Prince Consort for Doran to started his reign as the Prince of Dorne, so... yeah. If you're confused with Tywin's reaction for the betrothal, well... Logically, he wanted to support the betrothal as it was easier to disposed of a sickly woman at a later date so Cersei can take her place as the future Queen, but at the same time, he viewed her as his son's reject, and it would hurt his pride to just accept the betrothal, and you know what a prideful lion Tywin was. So, there you go.

I like Obara's spear in GoT, it looks wicked, so just imagined Oberyn's The Reaper looks like that.

Next, the meeting of Prince Rhaegar and the Martells. I was thinking of Victoria Justice as Ashara Dayne, and Christian Serratos as Elia Martell, you know, Angela Webber of twilight saga, I think she fits the image of Elia Martell nicely. Are you ready to meet Jaime again? I plan to have him on the next chapter. I was thinking Bradley James as Young Jaime Lannister. I mean, look at him in BBC's Merlin, he's already wearing Lannister color, only with dragon sigil intead of lion one there, although many fans cast him as Aegon VI or even as Rhaegar, but I'm like, 'Nope, that's young Jaime Lannister there, down to the cocky attitude and smirk.'. See u at the next chapter (hopefully soon).


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